


Smutember Day 24: Sensory Deprivation

by WitchOfTheWestCountry



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, Dubious Consent, F/M, Sensory Deprivation, breeding fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 15:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12171414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchOfTheWestCountry/pseuds/WitchOfTheWestCountry
Summary: Eddie has found an actual woman and she isn't going anywhere





	Smutember Day 24: Sensory Deprivation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FancyLadySnackCakes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyLadySnackCakes/gifts).



> Submission for Tumblr's Smutember event.  
> I wanted to write something for the woman who has inspired and encouraged me so much. And I know she loves Eddie - as do we all

The blindfold itched, but Brim didn't dare take it off. He’d told her not to and she didn't want to make him angry.

Her hands were fastened with something that felt like a zip tie - it cut into her wrists, and when she'd tested its strength earlier there was no give to it, no stretch.

She was kneeling where he’d left her, where he’d told her to stay. Her legs weren't bound, but she wouldn't have dared try to run  - he'd shown that he was  faster than her. He'd catch her in no time.

She could hear him moving around nearby, the scuff of his shoes on the floor. He was a big man from what she remembered of the brief glimpse of him she'd caught earlier, and he was evidently powerful too: he'd picked her up and carried her here whilst she was unconscious, wherever here was.

She could hear him coming towards her and she cringed away from him instinctively, flinching as a huge hand touched her face.

“Darling. Did I frighten you? I'm awfully sorry, I didn't mean to.…..” he told her.

His voice was deep and musical, cultured, and although he sounded gentle she wasn't fooled. She’d seen what he’d done to the other inmates...

 

It had been the end of shift on the female ward at Mount Massive Asylum and Brim had been planning to go when the commotion had started.

Chaos, noise, fire. Sirens going off.

Something was happening in the male ward and when she'd tried to leave she'd been told that the place was on lockdown.

She'd been determined to get out. There  was a job interview at another hospital - a less fucked-up one - and she was damned if she was going to miss out on the chance to get out of this hellhole….

 

Brim knew about the service tunnel that ran beneath the building. Not many people did. It had been sealed off a long time ago, but she knew a way in: She'd discovered it one day quite by accident and never told anybody.

It had seemed like a good idea to use it as an escape route but sadly someone else had known about it too.

 

There had been three of them, big men wearing the tattered remnants of the Mount Massive uniform. One had been naked from the waist down and his blood-covered cock had stiffened when he'd spotted her, calling to his companions with a rough voice, urging them to catch her. They'd got her easily enough, carrying her between them like she was a hunting trophy - which in a way she was - taking her off to be raped and mutilated and murdered.

But someone had intervened: The tall man with the scarred face and the swept back hair, dapper in his vest and buttoned shirt, out of place in the madness.

Brim had thought for a moment that he worked there, that this was a member of staff coming to her rescue, but when he'd waded in with his knife, slashing at faces and bodies with a viciousness that couldn't come from sanity, she'd known before she passed out that she was escaping the frying pan only to leap into the flames.

 

And now she was here. He'd tended her wounds and spoken gently to her, but he'd also tied and blindfolded her. He'd done things that scared her for the fact that she couldn't see them happening: Smelled her hair; moved her from place to place; measured her, even, running a tape around her waist and across her breasts with hands that shook when his knuckles brushed her.

But he'd been kind, too, doing his best to soothe and comfort her. She was confused, but eager to cling onto any hope in this godforsaken place.

Her surroundings were scary. She could smell blood in the air, coppery and fresh, stale and old. Death in the air. She wanted to believe she was safe now but daren't,  despite his encouragement.

He was stroking her face, humming softly.

“You have an amazing bone structure. Such soft skin,” he said, rubbing his big thumb along the cushion of her lower lip.

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

It felt right and safe to thank him for the compliment.

He chuckled, clearly delighted.

He was watching her. She could feel his gaze even through the blindfold. His eyes were like hot fingers on her skin.

“I haven't even introduced myself,” he said, faint amusement in his voice. “I'm so forgetful sometimes. I'm Edward Gluskin, but those close to me call me Eddie.”

He paused, watching her swallow.

“You, of course, will call me Eddie,” he said, sounding almost tender.

She licked her lips. They were sore - someone had punched her in the face during the scuffle earlier.

Eddie leaned closer, his breath tingling her skin.

“You poor thing,” he said. “How they wounded you! The monsters...I hate to think of what might have happened if I hadn't come along!”

He touched her face again, plucking an errant hair from her cheek, smoothing the blindfold over her temples.

“I'm sorry for the blindfold, darling, but it's necessary for a short while. I'm making your wedding dress, you see, and I want it to be a surprise….”

Wedding dress….it was a ridiculous idea, getting married in this place, but she wouldn't dream of contradicting him and if she was being honest it had a certain attraction.

His strong hands lifted her to her feet and her legs gave way beneath her, weakened by fear and the prolonged period of kneeling on the floor. He caught her as she fell, sweeping her up into his arms. He was so strong he made her feel helpless. 

“Such a delicate flower,” he purred, sounding pleased at the evidence of her infirmity. “But even a flower’s slender stem can bear tremendous burdens…A flower is only as sweet as the soil that nourishes it. And yours needs nourishing, and pruning, and care.”

He carried her easily, walking through silent rooms that reeked of corruption and death. At that moment she was almost glad for the blindfold.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, daring to speak, keeping her voice low and meek so she wouldn't provoke him.

“To bed,” he says. “You need to rest so you'll be strong enough for the ceremony.”

His lips brushed her cheek, affectionate yet full of barely restrained ardour, and he stopped walking, lowering her tenderly down onto a thin mattress.

He didn't leave as she lay there. She could feel him standing over her, staring down at her supine form. Her clothes were torn from the attack earlier, buttons missing from her blouse, and she was painfully aware of the glimpses of bare skin he could see. It made her squirm.

As if reading her thoughts, he sighed.

“They’ve ruined your clothes, I'm afraid,” he said. “But don't worry, I'll make you new dresses. You’ll look adorable in red!”

She felt him lean down over her and he picked fussily at her garments. She could hear his breathing, heavy and slow.

“You make yourself a gift for me. A delicacy to be unwrapped and-- unwrapped again. And savored...I think you'll be more comfortable resting without these on,” he mused and she felt herself begin to tremble.

He left, returning moments later, and she heard the snick of scissor blades. She moaned and rolled her head to the side, not sure if she was scared or excited.

He started on her skirt, the smart black one that had been chosen for the interview, starting from the hem and working his way up to the waistband. The cloth gave way easily, falling open to reveal her stockinged legs and the lace of her underwear.

“Black…” he commented, and she cringed inwardly, not knowing if his tone carried approval or censure.

It was difficult to tell without being able to see his face.

She stay very still as he started on her blouse, the cold edge of the scissors touching her skin. He was humming again, some old-fashioned song she couldn’t quite place. His knuckles touched her belly as he cut, sending a tremor through her that he noticed.

“Don't be afraid, darling - I shan't cut you! I'm a professional,” he said, sounding almost cheerful.

Her blouse was gone, cut into tattered strips, the cool air bringing goosebumps to her skin.

“Exquisite,” he murmured. “Such a beautiful bride I have! I'm such a lucky fellow….”

Weight on the bed, the springs creaking and dipping as he took a seat by her hip. His hand rested flat on her belly, fingers spread open.

“Perfect…A soft place to welcome my seed. To grow our family..” he whispered. “You’re perfect! Not like those other whores…..”

His voice sounded disgusted. Whores? Had he had access to other women? Or was he referring to a time before he was incarcerated? For some reason she felt a surge of jealousy.

He stroked her belly and she sensed that it was more for his comfort than hers.

“They were vulgar, darling. Ugly and weak. Not fit to be my bride! But you….you’re going to make me the happiest man alive.”

He slid his hand lower, the rough fabric of his gloves tickling her skin. He stopped at the waistband of her panties, curling his fingers into her flesh.

“I want a family, a legacy. To be the father I never had. I'll never let anything happen to our children. Not like…” he trailed off, and Brim felt her heart go out to him.

What torments did he hide? What had happened to him to put him in this place?

“Don’t listen to me, darling. I know you're going to be a wonderful mother!”

She sighed at his words. It had been so long since someone had such faith in her.

Her fear was ebbing away at his considerate treatment, and the touch of his hands was awakening something else - something exciting….

He slipped a finger under her bra strap, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

“Black won't do at all, I’m afraid,” he said. “It will show through your white dress.”

He hesitated. The blood sang in her ears because she knew what was coming next.

“I'm going to have to be a little forward, my dear,” he said. “I hope you don't mind.”

She didn't reply and he took her silence as permission, feeling him snip apart her bra straps.

“There, there,” he soothed. “I know you're  shy but we'll be married in a few hours. Then we'll have no secrets from each other. No secrets at all...”

The statement was both a threat and a promise, but she couldn't bring herself to be afraid. There had been too many secrets hidden in her past, and the thought of being able to share them at last with no judgement made her feel whole.

She felt cold steel between her breasts as he cut the lace between the cups. Her bra fell apart, exposing her. Brim couldn't see her nipples but she could feel them tighten in response to her sudden arousal.

“I've been a little... vulgar. I know. And I want to say, I'm sorry. I just... you know how a man gets when he wants to know a woman. Especially one as beautiful as you.”

His voice sounded hoarse and brought blood to her cheeks, heating them. How long had it been since someone had called her beautiful? She sighed despite herself.

Gently he grasped her bound wrists and raised them, moving her hands out of the way until they were extended above her head, framing her sightless face. Her arms pressed against her ears, shutting out everything but the sound of her own rapid breathing and the pound of her heart.

He touched her, hands scooping her breasts up and squeezing, his thumbs rubbing her nipples in smooth circles. She wriggled in his grasp, arching her back, pressing herself into him eagerly.

There was a faint remnant of shame in her, lingering, at her helpless arousal, and part of her was scared that he'd become angry at her wanton behaviour, but it had been so long since she felt a man's touch that she was unable to hide her emotions.

She didn't see him lower his head so when his lips sealed over her nipple it was a shock that jerked a gasp from her. His tongue was wide and wet as he suckled on her, teasing the warm peak of her breast, making her writhe against her bonds.

She made a sound that was loud inside the confines of her head, echoing back at her, heightening the reaction to his ministrations.

He transferred his attention to her other breast, his tongue darting over the stiff bud with little flickers, the fabric of his vest prickling at her bare skin. She squirmed beneath him, biting down on her lip against the delicious torment.

He was speaking again, still fondling her, his gloves only adding to the tumult of sensation. His voice was muffled and she couldn't make out his words, but she could hear the tone they were spoken in - gentle and adoring.

She felt him climb onto the bed, his weight caving the mattress in as he positioned himself between her knees.

There was a chill of metal again at her hip, first one then the other as he cut her panties off. She blushed hard at the knowledge that he could see how excited she was: her pussy was drenched, soaking the scrap of fabric he pulled away from under her.

A finger touched her, teasing the opening between her legs, running up and down the hungry slit. It was big and blunt and slid inside her too easily, probing the walls of her pussy. It felt like he was giving her a gynecological examination and for a moment the thought stifled her pleasure, but then he crooked his finger, finding her sweet spot. Brim felt her legs splay open of their own accord, the muscles in the insides of her thighs fluttering and jumping.

He said something else, his voice a low rumble, and Brim moved her arms slightly to hear him better whilst keeping them extended above her head where he wanted them.

He was urging her not to be scared, not to be shy, apparently mistaking the trembling of her body for fear.

Taking a deep breath Brim tried to get herself under control.

He tugged unexpectedly at the tight coils of her pubic hair, making her jerk on the bed. She felt her cheeks go hot. She hadn't been able to shave for a while and was painfully aware of her body hair.

“Once we're married, we'll deal with this,” he told her. “All these unsightly hairs. Make you silky smooth. Like a little girl again.”

She nodded. Anything for him. She wanted to be as perfect as he thought her - more perfect, even.

He stroked her gently, parting the lips of her pussy and teasing the sensitive little nub of her clit. Brim twitched against him. It had been so long….The only fingers she’d felt there for the longest time had been her own. He was skilful with his touch, almost delicate, surprising for a man of his size. His fingertips skidded in the wetness she’d produced for him.

“So eager, you little minx,” he chuckled. “So generous. I wonder...if I might have a little taste….?”

The bed wobbled as he shifted position, hands spreading her thighs further apart. His grip was strong and sure and couldn’t have resisted him even if she’d wanted to. But she didn’t want to.

She groaned at the first wisp of his breath against her, damp and hot in the folds of her flesh.

“The smell of my love's arbor,” he murmured. “The sweetest scent….”

Brim arched her back as his tongue dabbed against her clit, its tip stirring the swollen bud, testing her reactions. He grunted at the taste, starting to lap in firm sweeps, savouring her flavour. She lifted her hips, unable to stop herself, and his lips closed around her, sucking her clit in between his teeth. He opened his mouth wider, his bottom lip brushing the hungry gape of her pussy, then tightened it again, pursing his lips around her, drawing her in with ravenous concentration.

The zip ties cut into her wrists as she strained against them, bracing her shoulder blades against the mattress, curving her spine into him. His hands trailed up her thighs, curling beneath her ass, lifting her easily.

His broad tongue narrowed to a point, darting into her pussy, squirming against the clenched muscles, opening her up. Her knees falling limply apart, Brim let herself be manipulated, surrendering.

He withdrew all too soon, leaving her panting, his lips smacking together in the sticky juices she’d left on him.

“Delicious,” he told her. “Like ambrosia! Darling, I fear I can’t wait. I wanted to do this after the ceremony, consummate our love, but you’re such a tease I don’t think I’d last that long.”

Her ass hit the mattress as he removed his hands. She could hear the rustle of cloth, the grate of a zip. She turned her head blindly, straining her senses, listening to the harsh pull of his breath.

“A woman... has to suffer some things,” he said. “It's not pleasant, I know. But just try to... endure. For my sake. For the sake of our children.”

Endure? He had no idea!

His fingers were back inside her again, preparing the way. How big was he? She couldn’t see, but if his broad fingers were any indication the precaution was essential. He probed the secret little crevices, finding the spot he’d located before, curling his fingertips into it mercilessly.

“Yes….” he murmured as she shuddered on the ends of his fingers. “That's right - succumb to your pleasure, darling. Once we're married, there will be many nights like this.”

Brim ground her teeth, stifling a sob. His free hand was on her belly, stroking her, his fingers working into her even deeper.

“Now, this may hurt a little, but it's a small price to pay, don't you agree?”

He flicked his fingers upwards, pressing into her g-spot with careless skill. Brim twisted on the bed, a wordless cry wrung from her throat. Something wet splashed against her, trickling down the crack of her ass and pooling on the sheet beneath her. Her face flushed in embarrassment.

“Oh!” He sounded both surprised and delighted. “You're so wanton, darling...so very...juicy. I can tell you're fertile. Such abundance!”

He removed his fingers, the suction of her pussy clinging to them. She felt bereft in their absence.

Her mouth twisted into a cheated pout.

“Oh come now,” he reproached. “Don't pull such ugly expressions. It's not becoming.”

He slapped her breast, a casual reprimand, but the sting made her gulp. It shouldn't have felt so good, but her senses were stirred into a maelstrom, coaxing unexpected responses from her. He chuckled, laying his hand where he had slapped.

“Good girl,” he said approvingly. “Don't ruin your pretty face with scowls.”

He pinched her nipple, twisting it to the point of cruelty. Blindfolded and helpless, Brim felt more exposed than she ever had in her life, but the sensory isolation accentuated every touch, every thrill. She hadn't spoken since she’d asked where he was taking her, but she risked it now, licking her dry lips, aching to her very core.

“Please….”

She didn't know what she begged for - release from her bonds or release from her torture, but the plea hit its mark. She felt something hot and fleshy nudge at the entrance of her pussy - something that felt huge and demanding. Her hands made fists above the plastic line of the zip ties, her body tensing.

“Ssshhhh….” he muttered.

She hadn't made a sound but it seemed he expected one, a complaint perhaps, but she had no such denial in her. He pushed the rigid flesh of his cock inside her as he hushed her, the timing synchronised with the sound of his voice. The head was big enough to give her a slight pang, pain from the long unaccustomed entry, but it subsided almost immediately to be replaced by a feeling of rightness. It was what had been intended for her all her life but she hadn't known it - to be seeded by this romantic maniac in the ruins of a hospital, her degradation giving her existence meaning.

He crept into her, inexorable but not cruel, unstoppable but not unkind. His girth stretched her, filling her, burning and demanding and fulfilling all at once. Brim took it all, welcoming it as a part of her, overflowing with her acceptance.

He grunted, a human noise that grounded her in this madness, a song of praise in this fucked up place. In his own way he worshipped at the altar of her cunt and made her a goddess even as he defiled her.

She moaned, an earthy song of her own, taking him deep.

“Darling….” he said, breath hitching in his chest.

He pulled out, leaving the meat of his head inside her, then thrust in again, the cloth of his pants brushing her inner thighs. The teeth of his open zip bit her, but just for a moment, and then they were gone again to return moments later.

He took his time, fucking her thoroughly, an unhurried ravishment that ensured she felt every square inch of his cock, the pulse of his veins taking root in her, joining their heartbeats. He ground into her, bruising her clit with his belly, sinking in to his hilt and pushing yet further.

Brim panted under the slow force of his assault, the steady build of her orgasm crushing all thought from her. There was nothing in the universe but this - the steady ascent of her ecstasy, the driving certainty of his prick butting her cervix.

He cupped the swell of her calf, lifting her leg to open her further, his ruthless hand travelling the atlas of her body with the sureness of a seasoned explorer. He touched her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, drawing his map of long uncharted territories, planting his flag of ownership deep into forgotten lands.

His thumb strayed from the path, coming snug against her clit, tracing a defining circle in its wake. This here is mine, it seemed to say. My home, my property, mine to use. Brim felt pressure rising, squeezing her internal muscles, drawing a high-pitched keening from her diaphragm.

He picked up his pace, knees nestling against the tuck of her ass, the wet sound of his dick plunging into the sopping cave of her pussy loud in the quiet room. Her head was rocked on her neck, rolling bonelessly as if she were nothing but a rag doll, fucked out of her mind and grateful for it.

She came in a dizzying rush that crossed her eyes under the veil of her blindfold, the shocking spasms of her cunt milking his dick. She felt him cum in her, scorchingly hot, flooding her so completely she could almost taste his spunk on her tongue.

“Darling!” he croaked, hips jerking as he spent, hugging her outthrown leg against his cheek, thumb stabbing at her clit in a frenzy.

 

Brim lay in a post-coital afterglow, Eddie catching his breath above her.

This morning her future had been uncertain, her plans fluid and susceptible to ruin, but the lockdown had been an unlikely saviour, a blessing in disguise.

The woman she'd killed, the nurse whose identity and clothes she’d stolen, would have been discovered sooner rather than later, if she was being honest with herself. It had been a shitty plan really. But the outbreak on the male ward had drawn attention from her escape, burying the murdered nurse in its chaos. She wondered if the deception had been found yet.

Nurse Lydia had been nice enough, but she was the spitting image of Brim, which had sadly sealed her fate. She'd told Brim about the job interview weeks ago, and it was then that the plan had formed.

Brim sighed contentedly. She was glad she hadn't made it to the interview after all. If she had, she wouldn't be the future Mrs Eddie Gluskin now.

What Eddie would do when he discovered she'd been sterilized by the hospital and couldn't have children she could only guess at. But no matter. If need be, she could always kill him in his sleep like she had her previous five husbands.


End file.
